I'd Give Anything
by Fia Fialena
Summary: I would give anything to get him back. Anything. That’s what I told everyone. And it was true. They all thought I was lying of course. The great Harry Potter caring about Draco Malfoy? Impossible. But it was true.


**Summary:** I would give anything to get him back. Anything. That's what I told everyone. And it was true. They all thought I was lying of course. The great Harry Potter caring about Draco Malfoy? Impossible. But it was true.

**Disclaimer:** JK owns it, not me.

**Warnings:** The usual angst, added with some character death.

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**I'd give anything**

I would give anything to get him back. Anything. That's what I told everyone. And it was true. They all thought I was lying of course. The great Harry Potter caring about Draco Malfoy? Impossible. But it was true.

I remember the day he stepped up to me and said he was sick of the hostility. We hadn't fought for weeks at that point. He was always the smart one of the two of us.

Everyone had always said that we would match perfectly if we had been from different families. Rubbish. We match perfectly exactly the way we are now.

After we buried the hatchet, it didn't take long a friendship to blossom. We match, remember? And then after that. The secret meetings. The stolen snogs in dark hallways. And then, eventually, in the middle of the war, the kiss in the middle of the Great Hall. It was his idea. Proving to everyone that we didn't care about what they thought.

It cost us a lot. Mostly me though. My friends didn't want to know me after that incident. _'God created a man and a woman, Harry. If he wanted two men together than he wouldn't have created the woman. It's against Gods will, it's unnatural and not to mention it disturbingly disgusting.'_ I hadn't even known Hermione was that catholic in the first part. Just like I hadn't known she was as fiercely against homosexuals like Umbridge was against half bloods. But it was true.

So I sat with them less and less. Until eventually, I had to stay at the Slytherin table, because if I came close to the Gryffindor table, insults would be thrown.

Then, the insults came everywhere I went. Instead of Draco that was sneering and laughing at me, Ron and Hermione were. And they were aided by the rest of the Gryffindor House. Suddenly, I was no longer Quidditch captain, no longer leader of the DA. I wasn't a Gryffindor anymore. Because I had fallen in love with a Slytherin.

It's amazing how hypocritical people can be, don't you think? But at least then, I still had Draco. It hurt, yes, of course it hurt. But I got over it. Like I had gotten over so many other things.

I would give anything to get him back. Now, even after a relationship of two years, they still think that it was all just a fling. That I only wanted to shock them. As soon he was out of the picture, they took me back in their midst, and pretended nothing was wrong. And now, when I say I want him back, they laugh and slap me on the back like I've cracked a good joke.

Every time I said Draco, they reprimand me and said 'Malfoy, Harry. Malfoy. Not Draco. Malfoy.' Then I feel like yelling at them. But I don't yell anymore.

I haven't since he left. I haven't done much at all since he left actually. Except for think about him. And cry.

I remember the day that it happened. I remember I got up in the morning, with a sense of foreboding. I knew something would go wrong that day. It never occurred to me that I'd find the tortured body of my lover on the table for breakfast.

He always got up earlier than I did. And went to bed later than me. But I had touched him that night. I had shagged him good and proper last night, and suddenly there he was. He was naked, and his limbs were twisted in odd angles. He had slashes and cuts over his entire body. He was covered in bruises, and I could see in the haunted look in his open eyes that they hadn't hesitated to use Cruciatus on him.

I was the second in the Hall that morning. He was normally first. And he had also been that morning. The irony of it all struck me later on.

Nowadays, I don't really do much, except for hope that maybe, if I suffer long enough, and beg and pray, that he'll come back to me. That somehow through some miracle, he'll come back. I'd give anything.

_And I'd give it all away,  
Just to have somewhere to go to  
Give it all away,  
To have someone to come home to…_

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